Through the Veil
by IfPenguinswerePhoenixs
Summary: A look at the events at the conclusion of the Department of Mysteries as seen through Sirius' eyes. Plans for several more chapters revising other events in the HP from an unusual perspective. Manipulative (but not evil) Dumbledoor, grey Sirius. No slash or ships early but possibly H/Hr later.
1. Prologue

I don't own any of Harry Potter although I do thank J.K. Rowling for allowing me to play in the sandpit. Italics for text taken directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

" _That was just a taster!"_

Bellatrix's voice - of course Bellatrix would be here. A young man's voice cracking under the pressure of forcing out screams leaves no doubt that she's employing her favourite curse. I can only redouble my speed and pray that it isn't Harry.

More doors are just ahead – these damn Department of mysteries types with their doors after doors like some sort of twisted maze. Together Mooney, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Kingsley and I have been charging through doors for what feels like hours but has probably been seconds and while the scene through each set of doors has alternated between surreal and downright freakish - who the hell keeps a swimming pool full of brains! - we've yet to come across a single one of the kids we've been sent to find.

" _Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!"_

Definitely closer than before! We must be almost up to them. The final set of doors fly open as we sprint into the room and look down on the scene below us. A round faced boy is lying on the ground with Bellatrix pointing her wand at him, her face alight with the pleasure she always showed while indulging in her favourite past time. Harry is still standing, thank god, but he is reaching out towards Lucius Malfoy with something in his hand when Lucius spins at the sound of the doors slamming back. As Lucius raises his wand the red jet of a stunner flies towards him courtesy of little Nymphiedora - although she'd hex me blue if she knew that's how I referred to her even in the privacy of my own head - and he's forced to throw himself to the side to avoid it. Using the distraction Harry has jumped off the dais he was on and is crawling towards the other boy.

Time to stop watching and join in. It's quite an eclectic mix of spells being hurled down on the Death Eaters scattered throughout the room and taking cover behind the rows of seats. Kingsley and Nymphie are sticking to 'light' spells – stupefies and incarcerouses mostly. Mad-Eye's choices show his experience and more importantly the fact that he was around before 'imperioused' Death Eaters got to lay down the regulations for what is acceptable spell choice by aurors. I follow Mad-Eye's lead and make my first spell a reductor which shatters the stone bench a Death Eater is hiding behind.

It's hard not to get lost in the moment. Twelve years in Azkaban, two years on the run and one year in hiding in Grimmauld and I can't stop the smile from spreading across my face as I fling spell after spell at the black robed figures while making my way down the levels and towards the dais. I may have my blood lust up, almost lost in the joy of magic sizzling through my veins again but at least this time I'm not going to abandon Harry. Dammit – speaking of Harry, I'm barely ten feet away but a massive Death Eater has grabbed him and looks to be choking the life out of him! His face is rapidly turning red and his feet are dangling, kicking out as they try to touch the ground. I'm failing him and I'm stuck here and the Death Eater I'm fighting just Won't. Go. Down!

Fortunately the round face boy – is that the Longbottom's boy? Neville I think Mad-Eye told me his name was – just jabbed his wand into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask. Unconventional sure but certainly effective and I have to admit I'm hard pressed to think of what shield charm could prevent it. Hexes and curses are raining down as my opponent and I trade back and forth faster and faster. Neither of us are incanting our spells both for the surprise factor but more importantly for the faster casting.

One of the things Lily told me when she finally started to hang around with us in seventh year was that magical duelling at its best could be quite similar to muggle duelling with swords. She actually showed us a film after we refused to believe her – I could never forget the name, Captain Blood! – where the main character had the poise and grace of some of the duelling champions I used to follow when I was younger. That film influenced my fighting style a lot – truth be told, it also heavily influenced my approach and success with the witches in the year after Hogwarts – but the most important lesson I took was that it only takes one strike getting through to put an opponent off their rhythm. Almost always better to go with a lot of fast spells and if one gets through you have the opportunity to finish it. Even a jelly-legs or a tongue-tying hex can easily force someone to lose concentration and a second out of the fight to dispel the hex is a second in which they're neither shielding nor attacking.

Our duel has actually led me past Harry but between the reminiscing I do when I'm in the zone and the fact that this Death Eater genuinely has some talent I can't spare the time to look at him beyond a glance out of my peripheral vision. He's catching his breath with what I'm now is almost certain is Neville Longbottom. He looks - well not good but no obvious major damage.

My attention snaps back just in time to duck what looks suspiciously like the dull maroon of a blood boiling curse – sent silently as well! This Death Eater has a disturbing amount of power if he's able to throw that silently. Even worse, beyond my opponent I can see that somehow someone has landed a nasty spell to Mad-Eye's head and he's down and leaking – who knows if he'll get up again. This is getting ugly very quickly and there's not much doubt what the end result will be for any members of the order who are captured by Death Eaters. Time to pull out something from what Prongs used to refer to as the Siriously Black collection. He may never have used these types of spells himself but at least he understood that I could no more forget them after my upbringing than he could forget how to catch a quaffle.

Parry, silent Tarantallegra, shield, rotate, and finally there's my gap. A fast slash with my wand from bottom left to high right with a jab at the end straight towards the Death Eater's chest. "Stricta Corde!", I roar and watch in satisfaction as the Death Eater collapses knowing that even if the counter curse is applied in time the squeezing pressure on his heart will render him incapable of movement under his own power for at least a day. If they don't apply the counter curse – well -looking at Mad-Eye its clear we're playing for keeps today and that spell could still be considered mild by some of what I've seen thrown our way. Besides, the majority of wizarding Britain still reviles me as a mass murderer, surely a few borderline spells are appropriate.

Oh God, Harry! Dammit this is why I would always have been a better hit wizard than an Auror. When the fight is on my focus shrinks and shrinks to the point that I'm barely cognisant of what's happening around me. The one saving grace is that I know by experience, time goes so slowly when I'm duelling that it can't have been more than a few seconds that I forgot my priorities again. Spinning around I see Harry throw up a shield which takes the brunt of a ribbon cutter aimed right at his head. I desperately lunge forward as Harry is bowled over by the force of the backlash and manage to slam my shoulder the Death Eater's ribs.

Another duel. At least this time he's not wearing a mask – I'm sure it can't be fun to fight with a mask on but it's also very disconcerting not seeing their eyes and worse yet, without knowing who you're fighting you can't use your knowledge of their styles. This one has a long twisted face pale even beyond someone whose spent time in Azkaban. Antonin Dolahov my memory supplies – convicted of killing the Prewett twins in the last year of the war and as if that pedigree wasn't enough he's described as fast, agile and very capable with his silent casting.

Dolahov actually looks very similar to the villain in Captain Blood and once again the similarities with Muggle sword fighting come to mind. A smirk crosses my lips as the absurd thought of a classroom of Death Eater's studying Errol Flynn's sword fighting techniques leaps to the forefront of my mind. I force the thought down and concentrate on trying to predict his pattern so I can find a gap to exploit. Just as Dolohov raises his wand for another ribbon cutter – must be what he thinks of as his signature move, not surprisingly if he's one of the few that can cast it silently with enough power to batter a shield – Harry yells, "Petrificus Totalus" and amazingly Dolohov takes the hit in the back and goes down with his arms and legs stuck together.

This is why you don't have to stick to damaging spells to be effective – a famous Death Eater taken down by a student with a first year spell and now it leaves plenty of time to choose another spell to take him out. I just need to make sure Harry's trained up on silent casting so he can turn a two second cast into a half second cast and he'll have the makings of a good little dueller. Oh! That's right godfatherly duties – positive reinforcement. "Nice one!" I say as I force his head down to avoid the two stunning spells flying at us that he hasn't noticed.

I look into his face seeing as always that mixture of Lily and Prongs and try to figure out what I can say that will convince him to leave. "Now, I want you to get out of…" –Oh crap! Green light! Fortunately this time Harry's paying attention to his surroundings and we both duck as the emerald green skims over my head. As I look up again, I see Harry watching as Nymphie goes down to Bellatrix hitting row after row of stone seats on the way down. I can only hope she'll be able to experience the bruises as the alternative doesn't bear thinking about.

"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!" I yell behind me as a lunge towards Bellatrix. I don't know who the first Death Eater I duelled with tonight was. Dolohov I know only by reputation but Bellatrix - Bellatrix and I go way back. Growing up in the Black household, duelling and dark arts went together hand in hand and while I was good at them Bellatrix took to them like a Grindylow to water. My parents and duelling instructors frequently told stories of her 'victories'.

Her style is actually fairly simple – she attacks. Brutally, without remorse and unlike most wizards with no hesitation to use spells that will cause permanent harm. This combination, along with her ability to intimidate or infuriate her opponents into making mistakes is part of why she is so feared as a fighter. She's actually not especially talented on the defensive side, her style however, is so strong on offence that most who oppose her never get off the back foot. As I leap up to the same level as Bellatrix and block her path to Harry I see her eyes widen in recognition then crinkle into a smirk no doubt remembering the first and last time we 'fought'.

It was shortly after my return from my first year at Hogwarts. Bellatrix was visiting Grimmauld Place for the signing then celebration of her engagement to Rodolphus Lestrange. As this was a major family function I was forced to attend and to listen to her and her fiancé and friends spout the usual nonsense about blood purity, although this time also with the announcement that a new lord was coming to put an end to the plague of muggleborns and half-bloods infecting the wizarding world. I should probably have kept my mouth shut since I was already a pariah, not only for being sorted into Gryffindor but having the gall to befriend a half-blood wizard named Peter. When I was caught talking to her sister Andromeda about how my recent experience of half-bloods or muggleborns was that they seemed completely normal, most of the adults treated me the distain you'd expect for a twelve year old disagreeing with adult views – not Bellatrix though. Bellatrix's response was to hit me with a dark pain curse one step down from the cruciatius. Never mind that I was even at that time considered to be the heir to the Black family or that her own sister screamed for her to stop, or that I was only 12 and she was 17, it made no difference to the gleam in her eye and the smile spreading across her face at causing pain to anyone who spoke against her beliefs. In my mind that event always marked the definitive end of my loyalty to the house of Black.

My father didn't say a word and restricted himself to a disapproving look, although I could never figure out if it was aimed at Bellatrix or myself. My mother meanwhile, delightful soul that she was, actually congratulated Bellatrix on her quick action and thanked her for disciplining me. As soon as Bellatrix left I wallpapered my room with Gryffindor banners held with permanent sticking charms and began to look for anything that would show what I thought of my parent's anti-muggle views. Between posters of motorcycles and muggle pinup girls along with rows almost every time I encountered my parents, the next few years were stormy to say the least. It only got worse after Regulus was sorted into Slytherin and the differences became more pronounced when I lost the last neutral party in my house. The day I left home for what I thought would be forever was one of the happiest of my life. What nobody, not even Prongs knew, was that part of the reason I was so happy was that it removed the possibility that Bellatrix would ever be free to walk into my home and curse me again without retaliation.

Finally, after 24 years, today offered a chance to salve the wound on my pride that has certainly contributed to several of the mistakes I've made in my life. From baiting Snivellus to chasing after Wormtail, ever since that day with Bellatrix anyone espousing the pure blood philosophy has been like a rabbit to my inner Padfoot – utterly impossible to resist chasing after.

The fight with Bellatrix has begun and I'm instantly struck by two things. Firstly this is not a duel, this is a fight. I have no doubt that if we closed to within a foot I would be attempting to punch her and she would no doubt be aiming to stab me. None of the usual courtesies or respect that might occur in a duel will be present in this. This is the absolute definition of playing for keeps and I have no doubt at all that Bellatrix will pull out every stop. Secondly and unfortunately, Bellatrix also appears to have attended the Death Eater's squashbucklng academy. As much as I hate her and everything she stands for, I can't deny that she is fast, accurate, and somehow balances fury at my defying her with a cold-hearted desire to cause pain. Dodge a cruciatius, parry a reducto, shield the debris it throws up and throw a spell – any spell! Just buy half a second to pick up where she is in her pattern.

Bellatrix does have a pattern though – most good duellers do. It comes from a combination of what they are and aren't willing to do, any personal strengths like Dolohov's ability to silent cast the ribbon cutter then predicting what the next spell will be based on where the wand finished on the firing of the last spell. While this is the first time I've seen Bellatrix with a wand in over 24 years, that was certainly not the last time I watched her duel. Ever since that day I knew that at some point we'd cross paths again so I begged and borrowed memories from anyone who had faced or even watched her fight - from aurors and duelling opponents even down to bystanders and victims. It's not as good as first-hand experience but it does have one big advantage – if you watch enough memories from enough people you can find the pattern and every pattern has a weakness. It was in Mad-Eye's memories that I found the secret although I didn't get to watch these until after I left Azkaban and he found out I was innocent and in the order. Amazingly Bellatrix has stopped her rapid fire assault for a second, she's actually panting! Her eyes are bright and her chest is heaving – Nymphie must have given her more of a workout than she's used to. We've been circling and moving throughout the process, mostly just to avoid each other's spells but we've ended up on the raised platform at the centre of the dais – this is where it will end.

Getting Mad-Eye to share the memory wasn't easy. I doubt he was ever big on trust and spending a year locked in his own trunk took his paranoia to a new level. Turns out that like dear Nymphiedora, Alastor is not a fan of his name and even less so of a bastardised version although even I'll admit that calling an auror veteran "Ally" was probably asking for trouble. At first, his grumbled "call me Mad-Eye dammit" was just a way to entertain myself when I couldn't snipe at Snivellus. Eventually though, I realised that Moody was insisting on being called Mad-Eye despite the eye being a somewhat recent addition – he certainly didn't had it when he brought me in after I broke down laughing at Wormtail's escape. That more than anything peaked my curiosity although Mad-Eye certainly didn't want to tell me the story. It was at the emergency order meeting following the mass breakout from Azkaban that Mad-Eye accepted enough Fire whisky – only from a freshly opened and untampered with bottle and even then only after I drank first – that he was willing to answer the question I asked him whenever I caught him at Grimmauld: "What happened to your eye Ally?".

This time, he stared at me for nearly thirty seconds, his normal eye twitching as it often did when I used his less preferred nickname and just as I was sure he was going to whip out his wand and curse me, he sighed and muttered: "If I tell you the story behind how I became Mad-Eye will you never call me Ally again?".

I instantly leaned forward and nodded. We weren't alone in the kitchen but we were the only two sitting in our own dark little corner. Even so, Mad-Eye's normal eye flicked towards the door leading to the library. I grabbed the bottle of Ogden's reserve and our glasses and surreptitiously led the way into the library. Mad-Eye followed and finally, after letting loose an impressive array of privacy and anti-eavesdropping spells, Mad-Eye joined me in the leather chairs by the fire.

He stared at me for a long time with both eyes and finally took a drink, let loose a slight burp of flame and said: "I hear you used to have an interesting extracurricular study."

At first I was confused by the apparent non-sequitur and thought he might have been referring to my dalliances with the ladies of Hogwarts – then it dawned on me that there were only two subjects of which it could be said that I'd diligently studied and researched. One was Bellatrix's fighting style, the other was the Animagus transformation. I took the safest option and simply nodded trying to let him fill in the details.

Moody took a big gulp, his first big gulp of the night when I thought about it. This time it resulted in a much larger burp and the flames almost caught his eyebrows. The pupil of his magic eye contracted and he quickly covered it with a muttered "Dammit". When he lowered his hand he looked at me again and said, "so, you want to know the story of the Mad-Eye?" I nodded again and refilled his glass.

"It was less than a week after I took you in. I was part of the team that responded to the request for help from the Longbottom's house elf. All three Lestranges and Barty Crouch Junior. A lot of people relaxed in the week following You-Know-Who'se defeat – I have to assume that Barty Crouch Junior was there as front man as neither Frank or Alice would ever have opened the door to any of the Lestranges. I'm sure you remember though that Barty Crouch senior was head of the DMLE at the time and looked poised to be our next Minister of Magic. While not usual it wasn't in itself suspicious for the head of the DMLE to send a message to an auror outside normal channels, especially if it had to do with rounding up some of the Death Eaters claiming to have been imperioused."

"We're still not sure exactly what happened – all we know is that they were somehow disarmed or incapacitated and that Bellatrix Lestrange tortured Frank and Alice into insanity. We don't know what they did to the Longbottom's son Neville but his grandmother blames that encounter for her opinion that Neville is well below on magical power. Their house elf notified the DMLE as soon as the curses started. I led a team of six aurors, all we could spare from oblivating the muggles of the most obvious of the celebrations and when we got there it was like the war was back on in full force. Bellatrix took out two of the Aurors within the first ten seconds of the fight. I duelled her for close to a minute before I saw her pattern. She starts with two fast nonverbal curses – the first is a blood boiler followed by something I never learned the name of although from the first auror she killed that day we later learned it turned his lungs to stone."

"The important thing about that curse is that it positions her wand for an unshieldable spell, usually cruciatius but sometimes the killing curse. After the big spell, she uses something fast, low on power requirements and for Bellatrix less lethal. What she uses varies but whatever spell she chooses it leaves her wand positioned in the centre ready for the blood boiler to start the chain again. The important thing is that the last spell is just something to keep the opponent off balance while she gathers her power to reset the chain." Mad-Eye looked at the fire and repositioned himself."

"That's Bellatrix's weakness – that spilt second after the heavy spell is dodged or intercepted and before the lighter spell hits – that's the space you have to hit her in so that she can't dodge and she's too busy preparing the next spell to shield. The problem is – it takes a sacrifice. The only way to cast in that space is to take your chances with what she throws as you as the lighter spell. For me, it was a weak piercing hex – barely enough to scratch and if I'd taken it anywhere on the body other than the eye it could have been healed in a second or two." Mad-Eye sat back in the chair with a sigh and sipped at the firewhiskey.

"It's the only way?" I asked.

"Well obviously not the only way." Mad-Eye replied, the gruffness returning to his voice. "If you outnumber her you can overwhelm her. If you can get the drop on her in an ambush you might not have to face a single spell – but in single combat? It's the only weakness I saw."

The fire crackled in the background as both of us sat contemplating what he'd said and what it meant. The crackling in the fireplace brought me back – god dammit, I swear I was never this distracted when I was duelling before Azkaban. Fortunately for me, it seems that Azkaban certainly didn't do any favours for Bellatrix's stamina either – that and a combination of having to fight an auror first was forcing her to take breaks where she could. I felt a smile spread across my face for the first time since I began to duel Bellatrix - best to press her then and not give her time to recover. First though I had to get a handle on how things were standing in the room.

While Bellatrix and I had been locked in combat and my mind had been doing its best to kill me with recollections it seems a lot had happened. Harry and Neville have made it most of the way up the stone benches and are only a few feet from the exit. My attention is drawn back to Bellatrix as I catch the miniscule wand movement that signifies a spell flying towards me which will lead to a very painful death if it connects. That is the first nonverbal curse, the blood boiler – parry and feel the crackling energy as it catches on my wand and is redirected harmlessly to the floor.

Second curse is already coming! Merlin she's fast! This is the one Mad-Eye couldn't identify but I like my lungs pink and fleshy so I need block it. Can't risk a protego when I don't know the spell, some go right through shields and that would explain how she got that auror. Fortunately, my wand is already pointed at the floor from redirecting the first spell so it's a quick flick back up to banish a large piece of the stone floor into the spells path.

That's the two nonverbal out of the way, next in the chain should be the biggie. Sure enough: "Crucio!"

Nobody should be able to put so much longing and desire into such an ugly spell. The red colour is similar in brightness and tone to the green of the killing curse and its speeding towards me. No time to deflect something into its path as my wand is already pointing up. Shield won't work on an unforgivable but fortunately it's aimed at the head – bad form Bella, that'll cost you! I duck and spin slightly to the side, coming close to the whispering curtain but more importantly feeling the air overhead singe with the venom in the curse and giving me a clear shot at Bellatrix's side.

Finally, after 24 years of waiting, I have my chance at revenge, I'll have to take the sacrifice but I can do that, this will be the start of a new life for Sirius Black, more importantly the end of a life started at Bellatrix's hands when I was twelve. I can't help myself – I laugh and yell "Come on, you can do better than that!" As I finish my taunt I see a red jet leave her wand.

Oh. Oh Merlin no. I wasted the window. She'd slowed down so much between chains that I assumed she'd slow down during chains as well but Mad-Eye was right. Enough time for one spell – or one taunt if you're an idiot who gets distracted and forgets to cast it. As the red spell races towards me all I can be grateful of is that it's the sacrifice spell – it will probably hurt but as long as it doesn't kill me I'm still in this.

Funny, that red actually looks like a stunner.

Authors Note: Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other great works literary or otherwise.

They say that when you die your life passes before your eyes. Maybe it doesn't count if you're unconscious when you die? Maybe it happens anyway but if you're not awake you miss it? That seems like a bit of a waste but even if I can't watch the full feature version I can't help thinking 'a bit of a waste' is a pretty decent description of my life.

Wait a moment – I'm thinking. The last thing I remember is the stunner coming at me and glimpsing Dumbledore enter the room. Okay, first rule is don't panic. Can't see, can't speak, can't hear anything, can't feel anything. For some people that would be pretty good grounds for panic but I've experienced something similar and I'm almost certain Dumbledore was involved in that one too.

After my little stunt with Moony and Snivellus, despite apologies, I got a week of week of silence from Prongs, Mooney and mostly silence from Wormtail when I wasn't spending almost all my time in detentions. On the eighth day, I once woke up completely blind, deaf and dumb, unable to move any part of my body and watching projected memories of my life from a hidden pensieve. I spent a full day in that position thanks to Prongs covering the whole contraption with his invisibility cloak. Lots of time for thinking. It certainly led to me being more considered in my pranks in future – not for Snivellus, he was and still is welcome to take a long walk off a short pier as far as I'm concerned – but it made me think a bit more carefully about unintended victims.

Either way its dark here, no pensieved memories this time. I guess with Umbridge in the headmasters office there's no access to it. Still hard to believe Prongs convinced Dumbledore to loan it out for a prank but in my experience there isn't much Dumbledore wouldn't do if he thought it would lead to someone seeking forgiveness. That plus by putting out the call to help the saved scion of a black family starting to 'turn away from the light', Prongs liked to boast that he outmanipulated the master manipulator. Or did he? That's the problem with trying to play Dumbledore – most people are thinking one or two moves ahead – he's thinking ten or twenty. In retrospect a day's loan of a pensieve within Hogwarts in exchange for one of the wizarding world's up and coming talents thinking he owed him a favour and the false assumption that he could outmanoeuvre the great Albus Dumbledore would be an easy exchange.

With no stimulus to react to and no ability to do anything I relax and let my thoughts wander. Led on by my last recollection they inexorably go to Dumbledore.

I learned some home truths about Dumbledore in the last summer when Dumbledore ostensibly came to offer me an opportunity. An opportunity to walk back through a door to a house I swore I'd never return to. Concentrating I can almost picture the conversation. Not as good as a pensieve but it's hard to forget the first time I realised that if you knew where to look there was a calculating look almost completely hidden by earnest expression in his face and the twinkling eyes.

"Sirius, as I recall, your family owned a rather well secured building in London."

I restricted myself to a nod. Even then, my relationship with Dumbledore was largely undefined. He was the Chief Warlock which presided over my being sent to and kept at Azkaban without a trial when his pet Death Eater got the same lack of trial but to live and work in comfort at Hogwarts where by all accounts he's been making a complete hash of his position. Given the lack of evidence I might have been able to understand not initiating another investigation into my situation but several of his decisions regarding Harry are also very much in need of explanation. Oh look, he's gotten tired of waiting for me to fill in the pause in the conversation and is speaking again.

"A location like that would be a considerable boon to the order in the dark times coming."

This time I just tilt my head in a faint quizzical expression – my best, 'why, whatever are you talking about Albus old chap?' while allowing myself an inner smirk. Something I've noticed is that Dumbledore always tries to avoid asking for things where possible, he'd much rather make statements that lead you to making an offer. On one of our rare opportunities to catch up Mooney told me how this played out for him, how Dumbledore met him to talk about the risks associated with not having a spy amongst the werewolf clans. The next thing he knew, Mooney had volunteered and was off on the incredibly dangerous mission to try to infiltrate a pack and find information on the werewolf that attacked him as a child. Dumbledore really does seem to have something about forcing people to face their childhood fears. Given the rumours Bathilda Bagshot shared while visiting Prongs and Lily while they were in Godric's hollow I wonder if he's trying to force people to do as he did when he finally got around to facing Grindelwald.

Even more relevant, when Mooney tried to call in his 'favour' from Dumbledore to let him spend some time training Harry for the tri-wizard tournament, he was met with "but my dear boy, you offered your time to help with the greater good." Oh, he's off again – this is actually kind of fun, if you can see past the twinkles the calculating expression looks the tiniest bit exasperated.

"Since you cannot assist the order directly, your volunteering the house would be an excellent way to make a contribution."

Oh! Low blow there Dumbledore, however, he's finally broached the subject I've been waiting for. It takes a lot of effort to keep my voice light and cordial.

"I know I can't directly assist the order Albus – what I want to know is why that is still the case. It's been more than two years since I escaped, I still haven't had a trial and I still have a bloody kiss on sight order active for me!"

Dammit. Unfortunately my voice cracked at the end and it's given away the game. Dumbledore's eyes shift from exasperated back to calculating now that he knows why I'm not playing his game.

"Sirius my boy, you must understand that with the Ministry's current state, any promise of a trial would be false. You would likely be kissed before you could speak and then displayed as a symbol of the Ministry achieving something."

Sure – ignore the fact that I'm talking with one of the most powerful wizards in England who also happens to be the head of our legal system. One would think that if he guaranteed my security and stayed with me throughout the process he could mitigate any attempts at foul play. He begins a new tact before I can bring this possibility up though.

"My understanding is that with a few additions to the wards, Grimmauld place will be sufficiently secure that with the Order in residence I think we could bring Harry here for part of the summer. Serving as headquarters would also enable Remus to give his reports in person."

So he's added two carrots. The interesting part is the reference to the Order in residence. That doesn't sound like the occasional drop in for meetings, it almost sounds like he wants to station a permanent presence at Grimmauld, undoubtedly whoever he's got planned for that happy job will either be 'volunteering' their time or thinking that Dumbledore has done them a kindness. There's also the less than subtle implication that without the order here Harry wouldn't be sufficiently secure. While I'd never willingly go back to Grimmauld and certainly don't want Harry to have to experience anything about that house it's hard not to see this as Dumbledore withholding my godson from me then dangling him as an incentive to go along with his master plan.

That's the trouble with dealing with Dumbledore - there's just so many different things going on. Would I be willing to even consider going back to Grimmauld if I could see Harry or Mooney any other way? Possibly but hard to imagine the circumstances. Coincidence then that despite being one of the order's best duellers, unquestionably loyal to Harry and one of the few wizards he has that is unemployed and thus permanently available I've not been allowed to join on guard duty – "far too risky my boy".

Then there's Mooney. If I went with Mooney being in the company of a known fugitive would only enhance Mooney's credentials, something he sorely needs after avoiding the packs for several years but I'm not permitted to accompany him either. It's amazing how as a fugitive I seem to have almost no more freedom or connection to my family than I had in Azkaban. Maybe the Ministry could use being tied to Dumbledore's apron strings as a punishment in future? I have to wonder if part of the aim is to keep me isolated so I'll be more desperate to grasp any opportunity to see Harry or Moony again.

"What about the Burrow? Harry's been there lots of times before – I could visit him there and he'd have his other friends plus even more wands around?"

The blue eyes twinkle some more as he shuts down another avenue. "Alas, with Voldemort's return the Burrow is not sufficiently safe for Harry or even the Weasleys. Your former friend Peter has had years to become well acquainted with the wards and while it was possible to upgrade the wards against him when Peter was on his own, now that the Death Eaters have reassembled anyone staying at the Burrow will have their life at risk due to their connections a former Marauder."

Laying it on a bit thick there aren't you Dumbledore? Hardly sporting to blame the Marauders for the way Peter turned out. Matter of fact, it was the sorting hat that placed one of the biggest cowards I've ever met in the den of the brave in the first place. Still the implications for Harry's safety is a point I can't really argue against. It also answers my earlier thoughts, no doubt Dumbledore has offered to arrange sanctuary for the Weasley clan and is looking to me to provide the means.

Thinking back over my conversations with the red headed harridan over the last year, I think it's pretty clear we were both played. The ferocity with which she tackled the cleaning and cooking, essentially taking over a house she was a guest in and the way she so vigorously limited my conversations with Harry, I suspect that in exchange for her family's safety she was 'encouraged' to further some more of Dumbledore's agendas. It would have been nice if instead of taking the credit and diverting it towards his own schemes Dumbledore had let me set the terms of the Weasley's stay at Grimmauld in addition to using it as a base for the Order. No doubt I wouldn't have understand how it is all for the greater good. Dumbledore is staring at me again – I've used the excuse before that after Azkaban I sometimes need a little longer to process. I'd originally said it as a dig at Dumbledore to see if I could get him to feel some guilt for leaving me there so long but he simply nodded and used it in an argument for why I couldn't be trusted alone with Harry's care. I have to be careful not to give the impression that my 'condition' is worsening.

"Fine – the order can use Grimmauld as a base, but I want Harry away from the Dursleys as quickly as possible."

Dumbledore's smile grew – the happy grandparent smile – that normally means a sandbag is coming. "Excellent, thank you for generous offer Sirius. Of course, I will try to bring Harry as soon as possible but as a responsible godparent well aware of Harry's unique situation I'm sure you understand that extensive precautions need to be taken. In that vein, I must dissuade you from writing to Harry this summer – you will be able to see him soon and with the Ministry actively attempting to discredit Harry there is a real chance that they may succeed in intercepting his mail. Being in correspondence with a fugitive would result in increased scrutiny at Harry's address which would make it impossible to move him at all this year. I will be discouraging his friends from writing as well – I believe it is in Harry's best interests not to reopen the wounds caused by Cedric's death until he has the support he needs be that here or at Hogwarts."

Of course. Wrapped up in the mix of best intentions and instructions of what a responsible godparent would do is the catch. No writing to Harry, not even to give him the hope that he'll end the summer surrounded by friends and family. No doubt Dumbledore is planning to hold that bit of information for himself so Harry can see him as a saviour. I might have to have a word with quiet word with Harry when he comes to make sure he is really thinking about some of the unusual circumstances in his life.

In other news, Bugger. What sort of a godparent am I anyway? In the fallout of Voldemort's return I'd actually forgotten that Harry watched a classmate die. I'm not sure I agree that holding off on dealing with those experiences is a good idea but the fact that even two years ago Harry was keen to instantly move in with someone he barely knew and had spent most of the year thinking was a mass murderer who betrayed his parents rather than stay at the Dursleys suggests its not an environment to deal with those sorts of feelings.

The smile that subconsciously crosses my face as I think about Harry's eyes lighting up with happiness at the thought of moving in with me provides Dumbledore with his exit opportunity. "I'm glad we're in agreement Sirius. Before I leave there is one more matter we must discuss. Harry is - "he pauses, trailing off as he looks to be considering his words - "an exceptional young man with a very important future. You are aware that a prophecy was made which led to James and Lily going into hiding?" I nod.

"Harry is the key to defeating Voldemort, it is no exaggeration to say that without him the future for our world is bleak. For this reason, it is absolutely essential that as Harry grows and matures he gets consistent guidance and leadership. I cannot tell you the details of the prophecy – I'm sure you'd agree that only Harry can decide who to share that with but I can only impress upon you how important it is that you heed my advice with regards to what you tell Harry. By all means talk to him about his parents, talk to him about your experiences and the Blacks but until Harry has the full story you must try to avoid talking about the future beyond Voldemort. I speak from experience when I say that tackling a dark lord is not something to be done without all your focus on the task at hand. If you truly care for Harry and his safety, I implore you to hold both your temper and your tongue. Now, I must take my leave. I will meet you at Grimmauld place this evening at six o'clock to cast the Fidelius charm."

Hold on a second, Fidelius charm? He's going to hide my bloody house without so much as a 'by your leave'? My thoughts at protesting against Dumbledore's 'just trust me' approach to talking with Harry are abandoned in the face of one of the rudest actions I've ever heard of. I grab Dumbledore's arm, and growl "You never mentioned that you were planning to use that charm again. Didn't work so well last time did it?"

Dumbledore has stopped smiling and his eyes have turned cold. A moment passes and it occurs to me he's about to say that my disagreeing with his methods proves I cannot be trusted around Harry. Harry is the most important thing - I've got to forestall him, so I quickly continue. "Still, I suppose that if you direct people to a near-by location and I come out of the house disillusioned to tell them the secret…"

Dumbledore gently but firmly removes my hand from his arm. "No Sirius. This time, we will not trust to tricks or bluffs with the secret keeper. I will hold that burden myself." He turns and disparate before I can protest.

Authors note: Thanks for reading.


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